Page 24 of Red Snow
“Not really. I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Yeah, I bet. Well neither would I.”
“Good.”
“Good?” she laughs again and I feel like everything is right in my world. “Why is that good?”
“I don’t want anybody else touching you,” I admit, because fuck it, that’s why.
“Well, that may be true, but you don’t get to decide who touches me, Jarrod,” she replies, half joking.
“I know that. I just don’t want to see you disappointed.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I inch myself a little closer to her before speaking again. “Just what I said. I wouldn’t want you hooking up with other people and being disappointed because they don’t know how to fuck you right.”
She exhales again and follows it with a nervous swallow.
“Don’t even start, Jarrod,” she reprimands, but I’m not listening to that.
“What? Is it not true? You can hook up with other guys all you want. I can’t stop you, but we both know it won’t be anything like what we had. They won’t fuck you like me. You won’t come with them the way you came with me. They won’t make you crave it like me.”
“Stop it, Jarrod.”
“When we were together, we fucked so good you basically became an addict. You were addicted and my cock was the drug you couldn’t live without. You can’t deny it, Stacey. What we had was unforgettable, and you’ll never be able to fuck anyone else without thinking about what we used to have. I remember that time I took vacation from the department for a week so we could enjoy some quiet time. For seven days straight, all we did was fuck, drink, and sleep.”
“Jarrod, stop,” she repeats, more stern this time.
“I’m not doing anything but being honest,” I persist. “I can’t deny it either. It doesn’t matter what I do or who I hook up with, no woman can compete with you. I’m not sure anyone ever will. Maybe that’sreallywhy I texted you. Maybe I missed you.”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe.”
Our eyes lock again, and this time, neither of us pulls away. The gap between us suddenly gets smaller until we’re only separated by centimeters. I can feel her breath on my lips and the heat rising off of her. Without even trying, we’ve both lost control. We both want it. We need it. I decide not to fight it anymore. I take a deep breath to prepare, then move in to kiss her.
Then my cellphone rings.
Stacey, startled by the sound, pulls away and leans back. All it took was a ringing cell phone to ruin a perfect moment. She looks down at the phone and sees Marcus’s name pop up on the screen, and I can tell from the look on her face that she knows he’s calling about work.
“You better get that,” she says with a look of disappointment etched on her face.
“It’s okay. They make voicemail for a reason.”
The phone stops ringing, but the moment has passed. She was in a zone that she couldn’t force herself out of earlier, but she’s out of it now, thanks to the phone. She repositions her body on the couch, making sure to scoot back and add an entire foot between us. I have no choice but to lean back and accept that the moment is lost. Just as I do, my phone chimes. This time, it’s a text message from Marcus that displays on the lock screen
Marcus:We’ve got an appointment with Judge Bartow in the morning to get the warrant on the Koot’s video. 0630 on the dot.
I know Marcus is just doing his job, but I could totally choke him to death right now. Stacey reads the preview of the message, and I can see the frustration in her face and body language. It’s almost funny how this moment resembles everything that drove us apart. We had a good thing that was hot and undeniable, but work always got in the way.
“Well, I guess I better go,” Stacey says, lifting herself off the couch. My heart drops into my feet as I watch her stand up and walk to the door.
“Come on, Stacey, don’t leave like that,” I tell her, forcing her to turn around at the door.
“I was doing good before you texted me,” she says with dissatisfaction in her eyes. “And I think you were doing well, too. In order to keep it that way, I think it’s important that we do what we said we were going to do. I don’t want to be hurt over the same stuff, so please don’t call or text, Jarrod. Please. I lose control when I’m around you, and I don’t like that. So, please don’t.”
I want to tell her to stop talking and get her ass back in here, but I can see the pain already in her eyes. That phone call and text message reminded her of why she ended things with me in the first place, and she really doesn’t want me to contact her. It feels like a punch in the stomach, but I have no choice but to agree to her terms. I don’t want to see her hurt.
